Downtime in a Snowstorm
by InformalSpoofer
Summary: There's more than one way to keep warm. ZukoxAang.


**Warn:** Language, vague handjob, potential dub-con.

Downtime in a Snowstorm

Aang was so _calm_, bleeding heat between them, smiling small enough that his lips didn't crack but enough to remind Zuko that hey, relax, you're with the _Avatar_. And Zuko, shaking inside his skin and numb and bitter from the cold (where we met, where I lost you, he wants to remind Aang), wonders when that silly kid turned into someone who just _blended in_ like cold was the simplest thing in the world to conquer.

"They did tell us not to go," Aang laughed, as if mistakes like this were mistakes like choosing salt over pepper instead of something that could kill even them, even with all of Aang's mercy.

"We were fools not to listen," Zuko groaned, the pressure of every wise piece of advice he'd never taken reckless on his back.

"If things get too bad, I'll make a break in the storm," Aang soothed. "I'm sure we'll only be caught here an hour, a few at the most." Zuko shivered and looked away from the Avatar (a thousand generations old all packed into one little boy).

Outside, the wind was a steam engine, ready to crush their lungs. Zuko felt inexplicably like a child (the one he _should've_ been), and regardless of his honor drew closer to Aang, to a source of warmth that had to be more than bending. Aang's hand half-stroked Zuko's arm, a hundred times colder than he expected. Goosebumps rose on his arms.

"You're warm," Aang said, his fingers lingering at Zuko's wrist, oblivious to Zuko's disillusionment.

Zuko flipped his hand over, offering the center of heat at his hand up for Aang's butterfly-fingers. "Why aren't _you_ warmer?" he asked, confused. Aang flicked fire into his open palm without touching it.

"I don't feel cold." Despite, he edged closer to Zuko, almost laying his forearm across the underside of Zuko's arm, hand too small to properly match up to Zuko's. "Geez, you've got big hands," he laughed, flexing his fingers between the spaces of Zuko's, drawing them inevitably away.

Zuko closed a hand on Aang's wrist. "Maybe you have hypothermia," he said, his glare poorly concealing his earnest concern.

"Maybe I'm trying to get you closer to me," Aang challenged shamelessly, his voice teasing but his free hand suddenly on Zuko's chest and just as warm.

Zuko swallowed; unexpected tingles traveled from his groin to his face. "What?" he asked, stunned.

Aang answered him with a light kiss, his hand sliding behind Zuko's neck, and Zuko's heart stopped for a split second. His mind reeled and he would've pulled back if Aang hadn't just opened his mouth against Zuko's and touched just above Zuko's knee, tentative as the kiss _should've_ been (or maybe it was just light as a feather, because Aang still wasn't waiting for a reply, though maybe he thought Zuko pulling him close by the shirt was _consent_, ridiculous).

Drawing patterns on Zuko's thigh and edging his hand through his hair, Aang pulled away enough to breathe against Zuko's mouth, cheek, neck, and brush kisses when Zuko inhaled, only when he inhaled. He could hear Zuko swallow, heard his attempt to say his name and cut him off by breathing heat down the neck of his shirt.

Zuko shuddered. "Aang," he succeeded, pressing Aang's back with a tremulous hand (_I'm_ not the _virgin_ here, his mind insisted, then a step later: neither is he). "What are you doing?"

Full-stop. Aang's hand, so far up his thigh, drew away, and the flush and surprise and guilt in his face almost made Zuko laugh. "I - I'm sorry, should I not have done that?" Zuko wanted to scream _I'm the older one_ but instead reveled in Aang's squirming, watching as embarrassment slowly let guilt replace it.

"I didn't say stop," Zuko tried to say in a level voice. "I'm just…reminding you that fire burns." He didn't reach out to make amends (_come here_, I'm not chasing you anymore).

Aang faltered between guilt, wanting, and confusion, then regained composure, a mischievous grin curving his body. He leaned into Zuko, one hand firm on his leg, the other hovering next to Zuko's neck. "Well…" A more appropriate blush tinged his cheeks, but he met Zuko's eyes. "I know that. You taught me well, Sifu Hotman."

He kissed him hard, but recovered from his surprise not quite fast enough. Zuko pulled him into his lap, dragging hot fingers down Aang's stomach, across his belt, offering a much quicker touch than Aang had but not giving it. Aang whispered moans against Zuko's mouth, stroking his neck and chest and back, ruffling his clothes with flicks of freezing air.

Zuko's hand teased over the tight bulge in Aang's pants and Aang hissed in a little of Zuko's breath, too, as he broke the kiss, scarlet rushing over his cheeks. He pressed his face against Zuko's neck, only waiting for a moment, but when Zuko's hand remained stationary, Aang started kissing and sucking at his neck, begging him to continue between contact in whispers Zuko almost couldn't hear over the wind.

Naturally, Zuko couldn't resist keeping his hand still and firm, his other hand rubbing up and down Aang's spine. Aang's hands clenched against his back, unclenched, danced at the hem of his shirt, the hem of his pants; finally they grounded on his shoulders and Aang kissed his bottom lip. "C'mon," Aang murmured, kissing next to Zuko's lips. Zuko opened his mouth just enough, inviting, shifting his hand against Aang's pants. "_C'mon,_" Aang moaned, and in desperation rocked kisses against Zuko's mouth like he was fucking him, harder and harder, breath short. "_Please,_" he moaned, eyes half-shut, bruising lips over Zuko's.

Zuko swallowed back a moan and ducked his face securely by Aang's cheek, dusting his face with kisses so he couldn't see the flush in Zuko's face. "When you put it like that," he managed to say, then slid his hand past Aang's belt, skin-to-skin, and circled his cock with a searing hand.

It didn't take Aang long to come, biting lips and arched back and a tense rush of air that suffocated Zuko, until Aang released his lips to call Zuko's name from his gut (so much more deep and coarse and sincere and _perfect_ than Zuko's imagination).

Shaking, Aang kissed Zuko, gentle as holding hands. After a while, Aang let his arms drop and he slid off Zuko's lap. "I guess I owe you," Aang said, lips curving into a tiny smile.


End file.
